


Adventures In Babysitting

by herecomesbucktofuckshitup



Series: Lost In The Supermarket [3]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adoption (sort of), Alternate Universe, Babysitting, Families of Choice, Kid Clint Barton, Kid Fic, Kid Natasha Romanov, Kid Pietro Maximoff, Kid Wanda Maximoff, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Single Parent Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 02:03:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7201703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herecomesbucktofuckshitup/pseuds/herecomesbucktofuckshitup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve can totally be put in charge of children. It’ll be fine. More than fine. It’ll be awesome. He’s gonna be the best babysitter in the world and neither of the kids will die on his watch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adventures In Babysitting

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading. This work is part of a series, and it makes more sense with the other installments if you want to read those first.

 

Steve can totally do this thing. These kids love love him. He _knows_ these kids. He’s practically their second dad. Or, well, third dad in Clint’s case. But still. He can totally be put in charge of these children. It’ll be fine. More than fine. It’ll be awesome. He’s gonna be the best babysitter in the world and neither of the kids will die on his watch

“Dude, I’m getting nervous watching you hyperventilate over there. Please stop pacing and talk to me. What’s going on?” Sam asks between bites of his cereal.

Steve dramatically throws himself in the seat across from Sam, sighing dejectedly. It earns him an “Okay, woah.” from Sam. King T’Challa, the cat that Sam insists doesn’t actually belong to him, jumps up on the table and headbutts Steve as if to emphasise the point.

“I have to babysit tonight because Buck’s going upstate, and I’m worried I’m gonna screw everything up.” He laments, and Sam scrunches up his nose.

“Ugh, Barnes."

 

The story, or lack of one, goes like this: Steve had been worried about introducing Bucky and Sam for some unknown gut instinct. He had waited months into the relationship before having the two meet each other, and it turned out his gut instinct was right. Bucky and Sam had actually already met before, overseas. Apparently, Sam had been part of the pararescue team that had gotten the survivor’s of Bucky’s squadron to safety. And for some reason that neither man will go into, something happened to make them hate each other.

Well, to make Sam hate Bucky. Bucky doesn’t really hate Sam, he just gets sort of sheepish and apologetic whenever it’s brought up.

Anyway, that’s the reason behind Sam’s disdainful reaction. Steve just looks up from where he’s sulking to glare at him. Sam shrugs unrepentantly and continues eating his Trix. “Why’s Barnes going outta town anyway?” He asks. T’Challa starts drinking the milk out of Sam’s bowl, licking his face piously.

“He’s meeting with his lawyer to try and legally adopt Clint. I thought I told you this already.” Steve says, and Sam shrugs again, absentmindedly scratching behind T’Challa’s ears. “Y’know, for a former therapist you’re a real shitty listener.”

“I’ve just perfected my ‘I’m listening but not really’ face. It’s all in the eyes.” He demonstrates the face and Steve has to huff out a laugh at Sam’s vacant stare. Sam shakes his head and smiles at Steve. “Steve, you’re stressing yourself out for nothing. You’ve spent countless hours with these kids. You love them and they love you. You’ve got nothing to be afraid of. They’re good kids.”  

Sam may detest their dad, but he has a huge soft spot for the Barnes children. Although, honestly, there isn't a single human under the age of 12 that Sam doesn't totally fawn over. He spends 40% of their outings pointing out “cool” babies to Steve.

Steve lifts his head from the table and takes a spoonful of Sam’s cereal, ignoring T’Challa’s warning growl.

Steve shows up at the Barnes apartment and stands in front of the door with his overnight bag hanging lamely off his shoulder. He watches the front door like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. Just as he finally gets the courage to raise his hand to knock, the door swings open. A tiny unimpressed Natasha stands there with arms crossed.

“Are you gonna come in or what?” She demands.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” He mutters, and let's Nat drag him inside.

Bucky’s sitting at the kitchen table with Clint sitting in his lap, coloring. Bucky’s writing something on a notepad as Clint swings his legs back and forth, content in his spot.

“Hey,” Steve says softly, and Bucky glances up, smiling.

“Hey, Stevie.” Bucky replies, then taps Clint’s shoulder, altering him to Steve’s presence. Clint looks up and grins. He had lost one of his molars last week, making his smile looking impossibly wide.

“Whatcha workin’ on?” He asks, shoving his hands in his pockets. Clint shows Steve his coloring book of exotic birds and babbles on about his favorites, throwing in various signs here and there as his mind runs ahead of his mouth. He eventually tapers off and slides off Bucky’s lap, going to help Natasha rifle through Steve’s bag.  

Steve takes the seat next to Bucky, tilting his head slightly to see what he’s writing. He’s filling out a fake prescription for Antony Lang, the stuffed ant that Bucky had told him about last week, the one who had needed antenna replacement surgery. Bucky had also gravely explained to him that Antony had sprained his mandibles, which is one of the most grievous parts of the body to injure, as an ant. He had assured Steve that despite this, Antony was sure to make a speedy recovery. Then he had spent the next several minutes apologizing that he hadn't had enough adult interaction that week, and shouldn't be allowed in public. Personally, Steve finds it adorable that Bucky cares so much about what he does.

Bucky’s professional recommendation to ensure Antony’s swift recovery were two does of hugs at every meal, kisses (as needed), and lots of rest. At the bottom of the prescription, Bucky has written a little note.

 

_Dear Scott,_

_Did you know that some ants can lift up to 5,000 times their own weight? That means that Antony is very strong. He will be better very soon, but even with his super strength, he still needs your love to help him get recover. Be sure to follow my instructions for 2 weeks, at least._

_Love, Dr. Bucky._

 

Bucky places the piece of paper inside a box with a stuffed ant inside. The ant has felt band-aids over each antenna and a fabric bandage wrapped around its pincers. Bucky closes up the box carefully and looks up at Steve.

“Figured I could drop this off at the post office on my way,” He says, shrugging as an adorable blush creeps up his cheeks.

“You better get dressed if you wanna make a stop before you catch your train.” Steve suggest gently, and Bucky looks down at himself.

“Da- darn.” He mutters. He's dressed in an undershirt and boxers and his stupid fuzzy socks. He stands, heading to his room and scooping up his kids along the way, pulling them away from snooping through Steve’s stuff. They squeal in delight as Bucky drops them in a heap on the couch.

Bucky disappears into his bedroom and comes out in a navy blue dress uniform with medals fastened to his chest and the left sleeve of his jacket pinned up at the shoulder. The sharp lines of the suit makes Steve’s knees feel weak. Buck has a cap tucked under his arm and his tie balled up in his fist. He sheepishly hands the tie to Steve and crouches down.

“I need a hand.” Bucky explains, pink creeping onto his cheeks. Steve huffs out a laugh at Bucky’s terrible joke and takes the tie, fixing in on his own neck before slipping it over Bucky’s head. He smirks and tightens in, then smooths Bucky’s collar down, brushing imaginary lint off of the fabric. He takes Bucky’s hat and sets in on top of his own head. It slips down over eyes and Bucky laughs, tipping it up with two fingers. He leans down and presses a kiss to the side of his mouth.

“Is Bucky a prince?” They both look down to see Clint and Natasha staring up at them.

“What?” Bucky asks, blinking at the kids.

“You look like a prince, Bucky.” Clint tells him earnestly, pulling at his pant leg.

“Of course he’s a prince.” Natasha says, looking at Clint like he’s just said something stupid. “He’s handsome and he’s my daddy.”  She states, like those are the only qualifications for royalty.

Bucky looked down at her and shrugged. “Sounds about right.” He said, taking his hat from Steve’s head and placing it on his own. He crouches down and opens his arm for the kids to crowd into his space. They both wrap themselves around him, and Bucky presses kisses to both of their faces over and over as they giggle loudly.

“Bye, baby. Bye, sweetheart.” He murmurs to them, squeezing them tightly.

They both mutter their goodbyes but refuse to let Bucky go. He doesn’t really seem to mind much, though.

Eventually, he stands, letting both kids slide down his long legs. He reaches over and presses a chaste kiss to Steve’s lips. Steve brings his hand up to cup Bucky’s cheek briefly.

“Love you, Steve.” Bucky says, grabbing his bag. “Love you, munchkins. I'll be back at 2300 hours, alright troops? Love you, everyone.” He leaves to a chorus of shouted ‘Love you’s from Steve and the children. When the door finally shuts behind Bucky blowing kisses, there’s a palpable silence that weighs on the three of them.

 

Steve braces himself.

 

Clint falls back on his ass and starts taking ragged breaths, lips wobbling. Natasha scrambles away from him and clings to Steve’s pant leg. Oh, jesus.

Steve scoops them both up just as Clint starts wailing and Nat buries her face in Steve’s neck, throwing her hands over her ears. Steve winces at the noise, and starts bouncing the kids in his arms, muttering nonsensically to them. He dance-walks to the kids’ bedroom, half-singing “it’s okay, we’re okay”.  He drops Natasha on to the bottom bunk and stands on his tip-toes to reach the stuffed bear on the top bunk. Once he retrieves it, he thrusts the bear at Clint, who grabs in and clings to it, wrapping his whole body around it. Steve starts rubbing his back the way he knows Bucky does, and Clint starts quieting down.

Steve sits on the bottom bunk, already exhausted, and lets Natasha climb into his lap, surreptitiously wiping her face on Steve’s shirt. Steve reaches up and cards a hand through her hair, needing the comfort for himself.

Steve rests his back against the wall and squeezes his eyes shut momentarily and tightens his grip around the kids. Natasha outstretches her hand to start petting the soft fur of Clint’s bear, twisting it between her fingers.

 

The bear was a gift that Bucky made for Clint a little after he moved in. Clint would have these nightmares about his dad kicking down the door to take him back, or he would panic after doing something wrong, apologizing at every turn, bracing himself for blows that would never come. Bucky had sewn together a stuffed bear with the softest fur he could find. He had given it a downy blue military coat with red epaulettes and cuffs. It had a black domino mask and black button eyes. Bucky gave it to Clint with a gentle smile, saying that the bear was a superhero and would protect him from anything that wanted to hurt him.

Steve remembers when Clint happily declared that it’s name was Buckybear, _like_ _you_ _Bucky!_ And Bucky almost tried to argue that Bucky wasn’t a good name for the bear before Natasha had agreed that Buckybear was _the best name ever Daddy! _ 

 

The sniffling dies down just as Steve’s arms get tired from rocking. Steve rubs his cheek on the top the kids’ heads in a way he’s seen Bucky do, and the kids sigh, relaxing into him. They’re falling asleep the way little kids do after they get emotional, Natasha holding onto Clint’s shirt as Clint curls the bottom of Nat’s hair around his finger.  Steve squeezes them, pressing kisses to each of their heads.

“Alright, team.” He says, jostling Clint and Natasha into lucidity. They blink up at him blearily and Clint half-heartedly nuzzles into Steve’s chest. He pulls himself up and the kids slide off of him slowly, climbing off the bed. He follows them clumsily, his legs still asleep.

They sit on the couch, slumped together like one giant kid lump and Steve puts on some Justice League cartoons to let them veg out for a bit. He pulls out his tablet and gets to work on some half-finished sketches for the next issue of The American Falcon.

After about three episodes, Natasha climbs over to Steve. “Wanna play.” She says, bracing herself on his shoulders.

“Okay,”  he says. “What are we playing?”

She gives him a look like he's stupid. “Justice League, Steve, come _on._ ” She drags him off the couch.

They put on costumes, which basically means Steve and Clint wrapping towels around their necks like capes and Natasha putting on a headband that looks like Wonder Woman’s diadem. Clint is Batman and Steve is Superman. Buckybear is Cyborg. The game consists of them running around the apartment taking down imaginary bad guys and saving Earth. The usual stuff.

“Stevie, Stevie, lift me and Buckybear up so we can fly!”

“He's _Superman,_ Clint!”  

It takes about 20 minutes of flying faster than a speeding bullet before Steve has officially tired himself out. He glances over at the clock. 0300. 8 hours before Bucky comes home. Both kids are still jumping off of furniture and fighting crime at top volume.

 

Great.

 

_Sent at 3:02_

_If I feed them will they stop screaming????_

 

_From: World’s Greatest DILF_

_lmao is it 3 already? ya just give them smth colorful and sugary._

 

_Sent at 3:03_

_SUGAR?!?!!??_

 

_From: World’s Greatest DILF_

_dude trust me.._

 

“Who wants a snack?” He asks, and is greeted with delighted shrieking. They find some gummy fruit snacks shaped like Spongebob characters. The kids snacked silently, Natasha organizing her gummies by color and character and Clint happily munching on assorted handfuls. Steve’s ears were still ringing with the sudden quiet.

 

_Sent at 3:15_

_Woah, wtf kind of witchcraft…_

 

_From: World’s Greatest DILF_

_did u use spongebob gummies? that shit works like magic my man_

 

_From: World’s Greatest DILF_

_plus they're organic so im not poisoning my kids with chemical shit or anythin_

 

_From: World’s Greatest DILF_

_how are they? any major meltdowns? i know when Clint gets going it upsets Nat, and i haven't really left Clint alone yet…_

 

By the third buzz, Natasha looks up sharply. She asks, “Is that Daddy?” in a tone way too accusatory for a six year old. Then she pokes Clint and signs at him so that he can join in on glaring at Steve, though he doesn't really seem to know why.

“Yeah, it’s your dad.” He says, caving horribly.

“Bucky?!” Clint asks, voice going shrill with excitement. “Is he coming back? Is it all over? Am I staying here?” He starts bouncing in his chair slightly.

“Sorry buddy, he was just checking in. He wanted to make sure you two weren't getting into any trouble.”

Clint slumps slightly and Natasha folds her arms, eyeing Steve suspiciously. He stares back, trying to look as innocent as possible. She eventually purses her lips and goes back to organizing gummies, so Steve figures he’s safe for now.

 

_Sent at 3:20_

_Had a rough start but all is good. Played Justice League and got to be Superman. Kids miss you a lot._

 

_Sent at 3:20_

_So do I._

 

_From: World’s Greatest DILF_

_I miss you guys too._

 

_From: World’s Greatest DILF_

_fuck, our case is abt to be seen, gotta go, wish me luck._

 

_From: World’s Greatest DILF_

_xxx (one for each of you!)_

 

Steve stares at the little kisses until the screen goes blank. There's a tap on his hand and Nat is giving him a purple Squidward.

“Thanks, bud.”

Natasha says something in Russian, and Steve takes it to mean _you need it more than I do._

He takes a bite of it before he’s pelted right between the eyes with a red Patrick. He looks down at the gummy, then up at the kids, then back down at the gummy.

There's a stifled giggle.

He looks up, squinting at the children in mock-offense. They're both sitting on their hands, gazing off at different points in the room, obviously trying not to laugh.

“Who,” he asks slowly, making his voice sound grave, “threw that gummy?”

Natasha bites her lip and Clint tucks his chin into his chest. They're both shaking with silent laughter.

“Did you know, that when I am struck by an underwater themed gummy fruit snack, I turn into a monster that eats little children?” He says, rising and trying to tower menacingly.

He lurches forward and both kids shriek, running in different directions. He walks like a giant, arms raised over his head as he chases them.

He catches Clint and pretends to nibble at his stomach, while blowing raspberries that make him screech. “It was Tasha, it was Tasha!” He manages through laughter and from where she’s hiding, Natasha gasps.

“That is not true!”  

She runs out from her spot wielding a pillow and yelling a battle cry that could rival warriors.

She bats at Steve’s legs with the pillow and Steve lets Clint slips from his grasp. Clint grabs another pillow from the couch and they begin beating him with them as a team.

After a long-winded ass whooping from two little kids, Steve finally flops on the floor dramatically.

“Ah, you have vanquished me, young warriors.” He rasps, and closes his eyes and sticks out his tongue for his emotional death scene.

The kids cheer, and eventually Clint pokes his cheek. “Steve?” He asks softly. Steve opens one eye.

“Yes?” He asks.

“How do we fix you?” Clint whispers, frowning at him.

“The only cure for vanquishment is a kiss from each of the brave knights who did the vanquishing.” He tells Clint, and the kid nods like, _yeah, makes sense._

Both children lean down with exaggeratedly puckered lips and press smacking “mwah”s to his cheeks.

He rises from death like Lazarus, taking both kids in a hug as he sits up. “You saved me!” He cries happily and the kids cheer again.

 

They clean up the living room, putting the pillows back in place and collecting their capes. They have a playdate with the next door neighbours at 4:30, so Steve corrals them into the bathroom to clean up and make them look semi-presentable. They walk hand-in-hand-in-hand across the hall.

Steve lets the kids knock on the door, and it swings open to reveal a frazzled looking young man only a few inches taller than him.  “Ah,” he breathes, and Steve is surprised by his British accent. “Are you James Barnes?” He asks politely, as two young kids run behind him, screaming.

“Uh, no.” Steve says. “I’m his boyfriend. These are his kids though.”

“Brilliant,” he says, grinning brightly. “Come in, please.” He opens the door, ushering them in.

“Erik, right?” Steve asks, extending a hand.

“Ah, no. I'm Charles Xavier, Erik’s partner. I'm afraid Erik is out of town.”

A little boy runs past them at lightning speed, nearly toppling Steve over.

“Pietro!” Charles calls, “Slow down!” He sighs as the boy doesn't slow down and ends up running into a chair, spiraling onto the floor. Steve winces, but the kid just shakes it off and keeps running.

“I'm terribly sorry, I didn't catch your name.” Charles says, turning back to Steve.  

“Steve, Steve Rogers.” He shakes Charles’ hand and they grin at each other.

“Well, Steve, I can't tell you how happy I am to be in the company of another adult.”

There's a resounding crash from one of the rooms and they both turn in time to see Natasha sitting on top of one of the counters with Clint hanging upside-down next to her. Underneath them, there's a little girl holding a cabinet shut.

Charles sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Wanda, darling, let your brother out of the cupboard.”

“But he's annoying!” The girl yells, leaning against the cabinet with her whole weight.

“Yes dear, I know, but we must use our words before resorting to locking each other away, don't you agree?” Charles asks eloquently, and Steve glances at him, impressed.

“Daddy says talking things out is stupid.” She says, crossing her arms.

“Well, your father is stupid. Now let Pietro out.”  He responds and the girl sighs and steps aside, letting her brother zip out of the cabinet.

“Clint, Natasha, get down from there.” Steve tries, trying to match Charles’ poise.

“Why?” Natasha asks, kicking her feet.

“Because it's dangerous.” Steve says.

“Only if we fall.” Natasha replies, and Clint swings himself upright to sit next to Natasha.

“What’re we talking ‘bout?” He asks, and Steve signs _Down_ at the same time as Natasha signs _Stay._ Clint looks back and forth between the two confusedly between the two of them for a second and then Natasha takes his hand and Steve knows it's game over.

Clint looks at her with puppyish loyalty and Natasha glances at Steve smugly.

“You're too young for mind games.” Steve mutters darkly and next to him, Charles chuckles.

“Is this your first time watching them?” Charles asks, and Steve grimaces.

“Is it that obvious?” He asks, and Charles clasps him on the shoulder.

“You can't put an age on mind games, my friend.”

Eventually they come down so that they can play with the twins, and Charles and Steve collapse on the couch together companionably.

“Brandy?” Charles offers, and Steve shakes his head. Charles shrugs and pours himself a glass. After a long sip, he turns to Steve. “You mustn't worry too much, Steve. You’re doing wonderfully.” Steve raises his eyebrow questioningly at Charles and the man takes another sip. “My first time watching the twins without Erik, I broke down crying 3 hours in and had to call their father to come back. Funny thing is; he was a nervous wreck, going away without the three of us, and was already on the train home.” Charles smiles fondly at the memory and stares into his glass. Steve suddenly misses Bucky terribly.

 

They stay for about an hour, the kids all playing loudly while Steve and Charles sat together in companionable silence. They only move from the couch when the apartment grows suspiciously quiet, and both rush to go check on their wards. They find the kids all slumped together in a pile, fast asleep.

Steve bends down and untangles Natasha and Clint from the Maximoff-Lehnsherrs, scooping them up. Clint wakes and takes his hand, and Natasha wraps herself completely around him. Charles opens the door for them as they leave. “We enjoyed your company. Please do come back soon.” He tells them, and Clint waves tiredly at him.

 

They get to their apartment and Steve wakes up Natasha so she can help make dinner, something she loves doing. Both she and Clint have tiny little aprons that they help each other tie. They make spaghetti with cheese sauce and cut-up hot dog bits because, in all honesty, Steve cannot cook to save his life. Clint has fun poking the noodles through the hot dogs, and Natasha focuses on stirring the cheese sauce with a determined single-mindedness that would be frightening if she didn’t stick her tongue out while doing it.

They eat at the table, Clint and Nat chattering on about how much fun they had with Pietro and Wanda. Eventually, they finish up their food and Steve takes their plates to the sink. Clint makes his daily phone call to Barney as Natasha helps him clean.  

When they’re done, Steve corrals the kids into brushing their teeth and putting on pajamas. They all lay down on Natasha’s bunk, and the kids each pick a book for Steve to read to them. Clint picks some book about errant monkeys, and Natasha picks an old Russian fairy tale about a Firebird. They both complain that Steve doesn’t do the voices that Bucky does, but when he tries, they just grumble that he’s not doing it right.

Finally, the kids settle, relaxing into the bed. Steve finishes the books and picks up Clint, tucking him into the top bunk. He presses a kiss to Clint’s forehead, and then to Buckybear when Clint hands him the bear. Then he crouches down and kisses Natasha.

“Say goodnight to the _pauki._ ” She whispers, and Steve looks over to Nat’s collection of knitted spiders. She starts handing them to him one by one.

“‘Night, Jessica. Goodnight, Cindy. Goodnight, Gwen. Night, Anya. Goodnight, May.” He says to each spider as they pile up in his arms. He gives them back to Natasha, carefully arranging them around her. She clutches Liho, her stuffed cat, to her chest and rubs her face against it’s fur. The gesture reminds Steve so strongly of Bucky that he has to grin.

“G’night, Tasha.” Clint mumbles sleepily, rolling over.

“ _Spokushi,_ Clint.” Nat says and she blinks slowly, fighting sleep.

Steve smiles at the kids and gives them each one last kiss before turning off the light and heading out.

 

He turns on the TV, some comedy show, and gets back to work on some Falcon drawings. Well, he pretends to work on the comic as he obsessively checks his phone.

 

_Sent at 8:56_

_How’s everything going?_

_From: World’s Greatest DILF_

_great, actually_

 

_From: World’s Greatest DILF_

_we’re gonna finish early_

 

_From: World’s Greatest DILF_

_made a deal w barton’s lawyers_

 

_Sent at 8:59_

_And???_

 

_From: World’s Greatest DILF_

_he’s officially ours!!!! :D_

 

Steve’s stomach clenches at _ours._ Clint has a home now. Officially, legally, has a home where he’s safe and loved and cared for. An amazing guardian and a beautiful sister. Steve couldn’t think of anyplace better.

 

_From: World’s Greatest DILF_

_ive never met lawyers that party as hard as these two omfg_

 

_From: World’s Greatest DILF_

_jesus h christ the blind one is trying to breakdance gotta go_

 

Steve smiled down at his phone, happiness welling up in his chest. This family has him completely wrapped around their fingers.

There’s a strangled cry from the kid’s bedroom. Steve throws himself off the couch and towards the room, flinging the door open. He was expecting to see broken bones or blood or something, so he was almost relieved when all that greeted him was crying children.

Clint was sitting up, pale and shaking, tears running silently down his face. Natasha looked at Steve, eyes wide in alarm.

“Clint?” Steve asks softly, tentatively taking a step forward. “Are you okay, buddy?”

Clint just breathed heavily, grasping Buckybear with white knuckles.

“Did you have a nightmare, kiddo?” He asks, walking up to the bed and dropping his hand down for Natasha to hold.

“Wan’ Bucky.” Clint mumbles into the fur of his bear.

“Yeah.” Steve agrees, smoothing a hand over Clint’s hair. “Yeah, me too, honey.”

“Don’ wanna go back.” He says, voice breaking on the last word. Steve’s heart shatters.

“Oh, Clint, you don’t have to. You never have to.” He promised, rubbing his hand up and down the boy’s back.

Natasha started pulling on his arm, and he looked down to see her gesturing to be picked up. Steve bends down and complies, letting Natasha climb up his body until she was on Clint’s bed. She throws herself onto Clint, holding him tight as she makes strange cooing noises. He wraps his arms around her and she rubs their cheeks together like a cat.

Steve watches in fascination as they seem to have some sort of bizarre staring-contest/cuddling/telepathic conversation. They seem to end their talk, and Clint wipes at his face and gently tugs at Natasha’s hair.

Steve clears his throat. “Hey, you guys wanna make a blanket fort?”

The kids both look up at him, still tangled together. They blink at him like _he’s_ the weird one.

“We can watch the Little Mermaid?” He tries, and the kids light up.

They end up using all the couch cushions, all the pillows in the house, the comforter from Bucky’s bed, and the soft blankets from the kids’ room. It’s an amazing fort, if Steve does say so himself. They climb inside, Steve in the middle with his computer resting on his lap, playing the movie. He has a child on either side of him, both haphazardly sprawled across him.

 

They all fall asleep in a heap, warm and intertwined.

 

Steve wakes up to the entrance of the fort opening.

“Hey,” He greets sleepily.

“Hey.” Bucky says, smiling.  “You look comfy.”

Steve stretches languidly, trying not to jostle the kids. “I am.” He yawns, eyes watering.

Bucky chuckles, and reaches in to grab Steve’s laptop. “I’m gonna go get ready for bed.” He says softly. “Be right back.”

Steve dozes off slightly and wakes again with Bucky crawling in next to him, rolling Clint off of Steve and onto his own chest. Clint snuffles against him, rousing slightly.

“Mmph?” He asks, and slowly opens his eyes. He smiles at Bucky. “Mm, missed you Daddy.” he murmurs, then rests his head back down on his chest and falls back asleep. Bucky looks at Steve, stricken. Steve would reply, but he suddenly has a knee in his kidney and he winces and Natasha climbs over him, settling in between him and Bucky lethargically, grabbing Bucky’s shirt for leverage.

“This is good.” She declares sleepily, and then starts drooling on Steve’s shoulder.

 

Steve figures that yeah, this is pretty good.

**Author's Note:**

> (in case anyone was wondering, Steve's name on Bucky's phone is the eggplant emoji!)
> 
> Please leave kudos/comments to feed a poor writer's self-esteem!
> 
> You guys are seriously the best. I'm on [Tumblr!](http://here-comes-buck-to-fuck-shit-up.tumblr.com/) Come say hi.


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